I Was Falling In Love
by I'm Iller
Summary: A collection of various to-be-filled one-shots with Lance and Ilana.
1. I Was Falling In Confusion

Sometimes, it was just so hard for Lance to be around Ilana.

He couldn't understand why she dressed like that—who was she impressing?—or why she always tried to stick up for the undermined students at the human high school—who was she really trying to save?

No one stood up for him at that hell of a military academy when he was little. There was no Ilana there to help him when Baron wrecked his life, so why should these humans get the kind and persistent Ilana willing to stand up for them?

And he was so good at being defensive and rational, at reminding Ilana of her need for safety and his job to protect her; yet, it was so hard for him to lift his voice above a whisper when Ilana told him goodnight.

Sometimes, it got kind of weird inside of him when he tried to think about Ilana. She was a princess in need of protection—it was his _job_—but sometimes he could just feel the anger boil over him, somewhere deep, when he thought about her getting hurt. Something inside of him twisted and writhed when he thought about Ilana in danger.

"Lance…" she'd whisper to him some nights. "Lance, are you okay?"

"I'm fine," he'd announce without turning around. He knew she was frowning. He could _feel_ it radiating off of her.

He wondered if Ilana felt weird inside like he did. Standing sleeplessly in the dark of his bedroom, he wondered if Ilana was awake, too, thinking about him.


	2. I Was Falling In Christmas

Lance crossed his arms over his chest and scowled. "Why would humans think it's fun to put a dead tree in their house and then put dumb trinkets on it?"

Ilana paused on the stool and looked down. The tree they—minus a grumpy Lance—had been decorating was sparkling and glittering in the late afternoon light. The only thing it was really missing was more ornaments and something on the top. Ilana, however, was frowning. "I wish you wouldn't be so negative," she said. "We should be appreciative of other cultures."

Lance sucked his tongue. "We don't even know why they do this, Ilana." It really got under his skin when she accepted everything without question. Would it really kill her, Lance thought, to be a bit more skeptical about certain things? "They could be… I don't know," he said, "doing it to worship the slaughter of a thousand kids."

Immediately, Ilana froze and then shot a quick glare at Lance. Well, Lance wasn't stupid enough to not know _that_ look.

"What?" he asked exasperatedly.

"You know that's not why they decorate these trees," Ilana said, placing another rounded ornament on a limb. She had more faith in humanity than she probably should have, but it was better to hope for the good out of foreign beings than to hope for the bad—like Lance loved doing apparently.

"Actually," said Octus from behind the other side of the tree, "humans started decorating evergreen trees around this time of the year, specifically, in… the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries."

Lance and Ilana both looked at Octus in surprise. They had forgotten he was the powerhouse of information amongst the three of them.

"Probably around Germany, I believe," Octus continued. "The origin of the 'Christmas tree,' as they call it, is kind of blurry."

"Blurry?" asked Lance, sounding suspicious.

"Well," said Octus as he emerged from behind the tree for more ornaments, "there are a lot of different stories that go along with explaining the significance of the tree."

Ilana was climbing down from the step-ladder—with Lance's watchful eye and an offered hand, of course. "What do you mean?" she asked Octus. "There's no one reason to do this?" Because, well, it was about zero when it came to her running into a culture that didn't have one specific reason for doing something.

Octus gave a small shrug. "Not really. Some texts say that the decoration of a tree is a representation of the fall of Norse mythology in place of Christianity. Other texts say it is the Protestant symbol of the Garden of Eden or Tree of Life. Some others say it is just a representation of the holidays."

Both Ilana and Lance exchanged confused looks.

"Norse mythology?" asked Lance.

"Garden of Eden?" asked Ilana.

Octus sighed. He should have remembered that the two of them wouldn't really have paid much attention to the history of various cultures—this world had so many it was ridiculous. Now that he thought about it, Octus didn't think that the high school they frequented talked about any of this stuff, not even in the history class. "It's a long story," he said finally, glancing at the twinkling tree. "Now, though, the Christmas tree seems to represent whatever the person wants it to represent."

Ilana hung the last ornament on a limb, and then stepped back to regard the tree. It was just so beautiful to her, in a weird way. It was just a tree, a poor plant life that had been chopped down and strung with lights and plastic, but it was still strangely pretty. Something about the soft lights reflecting the color of the ornaments in the silence of their stares made it as close to magic as she would probably ever get.

On the other hand, Lance was staring at Ilana. He could see the tree reflected in her eyes and it made her look exactly like the little kid he saw at his father's funeral. She had the same eyes now that she did when she looked around her father's legs at him back then. It was like hope, and dreams, and puppies, and rainbows, and everything else fabulous and full of love was forever locked into her soul, which, in turn, shown out through her eyes. After a moment, he looked away, afraid that he would either be sucked in like a black hole or self-implode.

"So it's okay if," llana finally said, "this tree represents…"

Lance looked up. "Home," he finished for her.

Ilana and Octus looked at each other and then at Lance.

It pained Ilana to see Lance being sentimental about something because she always wanted him to see the good side of life and not the bad he was accustomed to seeing. She wanted him to hold a glass that was half-full and not half-empty, but this was Lance she was talking about. "Lance…" Ilana whispered.

"It's fine," said Lance with a frown. He just couldn't win. He was grumpy; Ilana hated it. He was trying to open up; Ilana seemed to get upset. He hated that puppy-eyed look she would give him when he was trying to say something meaningful. "It's what it should represent, right?" He just wanted Ilana to be safe and happy—and to not give him those sad doe eyes. "It means home to us."

Ilana looked back at the tree, and then she smiled. "I guess it does, doesn't it?" She turned to dig around in a few more boxes while Octus and Lance looked over the tree. When Ilana stood back up, she had a large star in hand. "This needs to go on the top," she said, pushing it over at Lance. "Would you?"

Sighing, Lance took the star and climbed the first step of the ladder. The last thing he wanted to do was show he didn't mind decorating the tree he had suspicions about, but if Ilana asked… Fitting the star down on the top shoot of the tree, Lance draped the cord around the back for Octus to plug into the closer outlets of the lights. The star sprang on, yellow and glittery.

"It looks amazing!" Ilana squealed as Lance stepped down. "I think our tree is the best tree."

"It looks nice," Lance admitted under his breath.

Ilana threw herself at Lance, much to his surprise, and squeezed him in a hug. "Thank you," she said. When she turned to give Octus a hug, Lance pretended to run his hand through his hair to block what he thought might have been embarrassment showing on his cheeks.

By the time Lance regain composure, Ilana was making a half-run for the kitchen. On her way, she turned and called, "Now who's ready to make cookies?"

Lance and Octus looked flabberghasted. "Cookies?" they said simultaneously.


	3. I Was Falling In Determination

_A/N: I usually don't do authors' notes because I think it looks hideous at the top of the page, but I wanted to thank everyone for their reviews. Lance and Ilana are just one of my guilty pleasures._

_Also, to the anonymous person I could not reply to because of said anonymity: Yes, I know the title is from "Space Age Love Song" and, yes, it was intended._

Ever since Lance had been put in charge of her safety, Ilana knew that he did not quite see her any other way. Just because she was a princess didn't mean she couldn't hold her own when times got rough. Just because she wasn't put into a grueling military academy didn't mean she wasn't chewed up and spit out. Her father knew the dangers, and he made sure she knew them too.

"Get up," she remembered her father saying.

He brought a swift kick down toward her, but she managed to dodge-roll to the side just in time. When she had stopped rolling, she was already picking herself quickly up to her feet.

"Good," her father said. "You should never idle on the ground unnecessarily."

Ilana sighed from the memory at her algebra book. She could still feel the ache of strained muscles and fatigue from those days. She couldn't remember what was worse: the intense training or having to go with her father to governmental meetings the very next day.

Sometimes she longed to fight, to fight like Lance wanted to fight though maybe not completely for the same reasons. There were times when she wanted to throw a couple of punches and rework those routines that had been drilled into her. She vowed to practice the way she knew Lance practiced (every night in the dark, practicing away his demons), but often time, she found herself being lazy at home because it was almost the only downtime she could get.

A week or so later, she mustered up the motivation to continue what she had learned from her father. It wouldn't make her any more aggressive, but it would put that firm persistence back into her. She ran around the immediate neighborhood to strengthen her breathing, but Lance had princess senses—and apparently they were tingling.

"What're you _doing_?" he asked, stepping out in front of her on the sidewalk.

She slowed to a stop before him and then turned her lips into a frown. "I'm jogging."

Lance narrowed his eyes at her. "In the middle of the night?" he asked sarcastically. "Do you know how dangerous that is?"

Ilana bit her bottom lip. She wanted to chastise him for making it out like she couldn't protect herself, but she knew Lance was only focused on his job. "I'm fine," she said reassuringly. "I'm just jogging, and I'm not jogging very far."

Lance didn't seem convinced. "Why are you even jogging? Are you trying to lose weight? You know, you're not fat. I don't know if someone at school told you that, but if they did, I'll—"

"No!" she blurted, and then her voice softened. "No," she repeated. "No one told me I was fat, Lance. I'm just jogging because I want to jog. I want to practice too."

"Practice?" Lance looked off to the right, still frowning. "You don't have anything to practice. You're supposed to be sleeping. I'm supposed to make sure you're safe."

"I'm not a weak child!" she yelled and then regretted it. Lance looked so shocked, like she had slapped him. "I'm not helpless," she said, softer this time. "There's… not a lot I can do, not like you, but I still know how to fight—my father taught me, Lance. I have to make sure I don't become useless…"

"Ilana, you're not useless." Lance had pulled her hand down from her face and put his hands on her shoulders so she would look up. "You're not useless," he said again after struggling to figure out what to say. You're strong, he wanted to say, but couldn't. You're brave. You're stubborn. You always have hope when in doubt. "You help me and Octus out all the time."

"It's not the same," she said, turning through his grasp so she could head back to the house with her head down.

Lance gritted his teeth. Sometimes, he wished he could trade in his fighting skills for his people skills. It was so easy for Ilana to talk to anyone, but he couldn't even talk honestly to the princess whose life he was trying to protect. "You're not useless," he called after her, but she didn't turn or stop to acknowledge him. Angry that he couldn't just say what he wanted and that she just couldn't understand what he was thinking, Lance paced the sidewalk irritably for a long time after she left.

Inside, Ilana opted to take a long bath before attempting to sleep. She promised herself that she wouldn't give up on this idea of practicing. She promised that she would not let her father or Lance or Octus down. When the time came, she would be strong enough to protect them all.


End file.
